Sparklers
by sourw0lf
Summary: With a wandering mind and too much Adderall, Stiles grabbed the brown paper bag from his kitchen counter and marched out to his Jeep. Warnings: Werewolf kisses and cuteness. Sterek. One shot for now, possibly more.


Three months of what could be debated as peace was far too long to really stay comfortable. Summer vacation was almost over and Stiles was somewhere between completely ready for school and nowhere near ready to leave his house five days a week. Although there was an unspoken truce between the hunters and all the little werewolves skittering around town, nothing was really safe. Would it really be Stiles' life if one problem went away and another didn't pop up? He didn't think so. So, while Scott was busy with summer school and bettering his life, Stiles was a little more than terrified about what was to come. A little bit of underhanded information from Isaac was enough to tell them that what Derek called an Alpha Pack was coming. He didn't know much about it when Isaac told them; or rather, when he told Scott and then Scott relayed the information. All he knew then was that it was probably every bit as scary as it sounded.

Since then Stiles had done his research, as he always did, and even though he couldn't scour much information it was enough to scare every little beauty mark off his face. He tried not to think about it, or the fact that the disappearance Erica and Boyd _more than likely_ had to do with this "Alpha Pack." However, it was a lot harder to keep his mind from wandering when he didn't have a distraction like throwing lacrosse balls at Scott's face or seeing who was faster: his Jeep or Scott's legs. No, Scott had been busy with reading and salvaging what was left of his high school career, which left Stiles on his own.

This was why summer vacation ending was perhaps a good thing. He'd have school to distract him, and Scott would be obligated to see his best friend every day. He was going to work on stepping back from Lydia romantically, and Scott was more or less trying to step away from Allison all together for a while. Still, he felt like summer was keeping a boundary between them and the supernatural, and with only one month left of vacation it was scary to think people would start _dying_ again. He didn't need those nightmares again.

With a wandering mind and too much Adderall, Stiles grabbed the brown paper bag from his kitchen counter and marched out to his Jeep. He didn't know who he planned to visit or why, but he was lonely and thinking too much and the sheriff was working the graveyard shift tonight so he figured, why not? It was dusk and the sky was orange and pink and blue all at once. He glanced up at the oil painting of a sky as he slammed his door shut, tossing the paper bag into the passenger's seat. He started the Jeep up and glanced over at the bag. He more or less had an idea of where he was going, and as much as he loved to intrude on Scott's life on occasion he had a feeling that wasn't the place to be right now. He pulled his seat belt on with one hand and used the other to steer as he backed out of the driveway.

Stiles pulled up to what was more than likely an abandoned building he almost wasn't surprised. He didn't know why he chose _there_ of all places, but the Jeep wasn't great on gas and he wasn't about to turn around and go back home. He killed the engine and picked up the brown paper bag, not allowing himself to hesitate because he was going to stick with this and not be a chicken shit. The seat belt unbuckled with a _'click'_ and his cool-guy movie scene was ruined when he had to jiggle the handle of his door furiously to get it open. Once he was out of the car he wiped his sweaty palms onto his shirt, and he only had a brief moment of nausea before his feet started moving.

As Stiles headed up the stairs he wondered why someone would live in a place like this. He half felt like it was a way around taxes and bills in general because werewolves were too cool for jobs but at least this place was furnished – sort of. It was an improvement from the abandoned train station and _definitely_ an upgrade from the burned remains of his childhood home. Still, he felt like the guy only lived in places like this because he didn't feel like he deserved to be anywhere else. It made Stiles want to rent out his bedroom to him just so he knew what it was like to sleep in a real house again.

It was about five minutes of standing in front of the front door until Stiles actually knocked, probably a little too hard because his knuckles hurt and the sound was almost deafening in the silence around him. There was obviously no rush to get to the door since he was left standing there a while longer, and he'd figure with super-fast reflexes a werewolf could at least open a fucking door. He was half way to turning around when he heard the click of a lock _opening_, and he wasn't sure if he should turn around faster or turn back to the door. He took too long to decide and when the door did open he was half turned away like an idiot.

The first thing Derek noticed was his hair. Stiles had obviously been growing it out for the past three months because it was a mess on top of his head and the last time he'd seen him there wasn't even enough to grab onto. Now it looked full, enough to grab a whole handful, and it suited him. It made him look younger and older at the same time, but that big, stupid grin was distracting enough to make Derek remember how young at heart he really was.

"Uh… Hey!" It was the most human interaction Stiles had had all day. He spoke through his grin and held up the brown paper bag in front of him stupidly, like a kid showing off that he had bagged lunch instead of school lunch. Derek only knitted his eyebrows in confusion and looked between the bag and Stiles, and that was his cue to explain what the hell he was doing there; it probably would have been a good start for him to know why he was there himself. "I've got sparklers! In the bag, that's what's in the bag. This probably looks like a drug deal. Well, they're left over from Fourth of July, and you probably don't celebrate holidays because you're too much of a sour wolf for that but the holiday's over so I need an excuse to get rid of these." He paused and looked down at the bag, almost sad, turning it over in his hands. "Scott's too busy being smart and my dad works all the time. I mean, we're both probably too old for sparklers but," he looked back up at Derek, "why let 'em go to waste, right?"

Derek still looked confused, and Stiles was sorely mistaken about not celebrating holidays. He and Isaac had a little Fourth of July of their own. It was pathetic and probably more depressing than anything but it made them feel a little like they had some family again and they could easily see all of the fireworks from Derek's loft. They didn't have sparklers, though. "Why did you come here?"

The question was loaded and Stiles wasn't sure he had an answer. It also kind of stung a little because sure they didn't get along but Stiles needed _someone_ and Derek more or less did too, whether he admitted it or not. "I wasn't aware that I couldn't?" He tried to come off snappy, but his voice cracked enough to make it a question.

"That… Wasn't what I meant. Isn't there anyone else you can bother?" Stiles looked devastated. Take foot. Shove in mouth.

"Well I just told you my best and only friend is busy," Stiles paused, rolling up the paper bag tighter, squeezing his hands around it, "and my dad is trying to find Erica and Boyd, _your_ pack, without a single lead. I just thought that you and I could at least try to get along because I think we're both pretty lonely right now but I guess I'm bothering you so never mind. Is Isaac in there? Maybe he'll humor me." Stiles tried to step inside, but Derek's big, stupid werewolf arm blocked off the doorway and Stiles' face less than gracefully slammed into his bicep.

"I just figured you should ask maybe Lydia or something, I don't know. You're not bothering me, it just doesn't make sense that you just showed up here." This was not helping.

"Right, right. Lydia. The girl who crushed my heart more times than the years I've been alive. The girl who I desperately tried to help while her boyfriend was a _giant lizard. _A giant lizard that she happened to get back together with and confess her love for right in front of me after you tried to kill him. Yeah, let me just walk up to her front door and be completely okay with all of that. You may look like a dumb werewolf but man, do those gears get cranking. You really can think more than just blowing houses down and eating little girls on their way to grandmother's house." Stiles shoved the bag of sparklers into his pocket and glared up at Derek as best he could. "Now is Isaac here or not? I still want to get rid of these sparklers."

It was hard for Derek to wrap his head around the fact that Stiles really didn't have anyone else. There was no one else for him to go to, and Derek realized he should feel grateful that Stiles even _considered_ him. "Isaac isn't here." Somewhere in the background he could hear Peter chuckling to himself over the whole thing, but mostly Derek's lie. "I'll go." Smooth as silk.

"Haha, I get it. You don't want anything to do with me. But if Isaac really isn't here I'm gonna leave. I'll just throw the stupid things out." Stiles started to turn away from the door for the second time, except adamant on leaving this time.

"No, I'm serious." Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a heavy sigh, and he was glad he caught Stiles' attention enough to make him turn back around. "I'll go, okay? I didn't mean to sound like…"

"Like such a prick?" Peter's voice echoed through the loft, causing Derek to turn around and Stiles to go on his tip-toes to see over his shoulder.

"Yes." Derek sighed heavily again and turned back to Stiles. "A prick. Let me just get changed. We'll go to the park or something." He didn't give Stiles time to ramble for another five minutes, shutting the door in his face so there was no objection, and so his uncle wouldn't harass the poor kid. He was back within minutes, this time in a real shirt and a leather jacket. He didn't change that much, but Derek's wardrobe consisted only of leather jackets and henleys. He was glad to see Stiles was still standing there, albeit a bit more in disarray than before. His hair was a bit messed up from where he'd been raking his fingers through it and he had a finger pressed up against his mouth where he was biting the nail down.

Stiles was doe-eyed when he caught sight of Derek. He pulled his hand away from his mouth and spit the piece of nail out of his mouth with a bit of struggle from his tongue, which pushed it around awkwardly for a moment before he actually got it out of his mouth. "I didn't think you were actually going to come back."

"I didn't actually think you'd still be standing there."

"Well, you gave enough reason to drive me away."

"But you're still here, aren't you?"

"Shut up."

Stiles turned away and headed back the way he came, this time Derek following him. There was a comfortable silence between them; one that didn't make Stiles feel like his life was being threatened. They got into his Jeep and Stiles threw the bag of sparklers into Derek's lap; the last time they were in his Jeep together Derek slammed his head against the steering wheel. Stiles still didn't know what that was for. He drove to one of the parks in town, one that was surrounded by neighborhoods but dark enough to serve the purpose of the sparklers; he wasn't about to pull up into the woods and risk getting eaten by something scary enough that Derek couldn't protect him from. He made a note to himself to never think of Derek as protective or… Safe again. That time with Isaac or when Derek pushed him away from Jackson at the pool always pushed to the front of his brain, though.

Stiles put the Jeep in park and pulled the keys out. The park was dark, save for the fleeting bit of light from the sun that would soon be from the moon. The pink in the sky had faded into a dark blue, and only a bit of orange was left on the horizon. He just sat there for a moment until he heard Derek's door open, and normally dark parks at night would scare him after the past events of his life but again that feeling of being _safe_ around Derek covered him like a warm blanket. He got out as well and headed to the center of the open grass, where it was darkest.

"Did you bring a lighter?" Derek's voice was accusatory and Stiles didn't like that one bit.

"Of course I did, I'm not an idiot." He snatched the bag from Derek's hands and looked inside.

"You didn't, did you?"

"May have left out that detail."

"You're lucky I know your mind works faster than your hands." Derek pulled a lighter from his pocket and tossed it to Stiles, who slapped it around in the air for a while in attempts to catch it before it fell in the grass. He felt around for it blindly in the dark, righting himself once he found it. He pulled the boxes of sparklers out, about five or six of them, and placed them on a nearby picnic table, where Derek decided to plant his lazy werewolf ass.

"So I was your last resort?" Derek's voice was soft and lacking that usual accusing tone of his.

Stiles pulled two sparklers from one of the boxes and handed one to the werewolf. "Actually, no." He let out a nervous laugh, staring at the fuzzy outline that could only be Derek's silhouette; all broad shoulders and bulky arms. He didn't care if Derek's weird werewolfy vision could see Stiles staring, his eyes were groping around the darkness for something to fill the void and Derek's Incredible Hulk of a form was the most familiar to him. "I was going to call Scott because I know it's too late for him to be studying. I picked you instead," Stiles flicked his thumb over the lighter a few times, watching it spark and fail to catch, "not that I wanted to see you specifically. Or at all. I'm just saying. You're not a last resort. Not that we're friends. I mean-"

"Stiles, just light the damn sparkler."

Stiles nodded his head whether Derek could see him or not and flicked the lighter a few more times before it burst to life. He lit the end of his sparkler and watched it do what it did best, spark. He put the lighter in his wallet and used the light of the sparkler to find Derek's. He used the end of his to light Derek's, the popping, sizzling sound getting louder from them.

It was Derek's turn to stare, the bright end of their sparklers not glowing nearly as bright as Stiles' smile. The light flickered on his pale face like the flame of a candle, the reflection of the sparkles glittering in his eyes. Stiles didn't seem to notice, too fixed on the light of the sparkler. Derek didn't look away until Stiles' sparkler fizzled out, and his own a few seconds later. Stiles took out two more, lit them, and the dance began again, except Stiles didn't keep still this time. Derek let his eyes wander to where he could make out an 'S' in the smoke where Stiles began to write his name. It floated there for a few seconds before a breeze lifted it away and Stiles started on a big 'D'.

"Come on, write your name," Stiles encouraged, grabbing Derek's arm, forcing him to trace over where he started to write his name. Derek gave a fleeting chuckle and wrote his name in a script far nicer than Stiles' chicken scratch, and Stiles wouldn't have been surprised if Derek had taken a penmanship class or something when he was little.

Those sparklers burned out and two more were lit, and the process continued on. At one point Stiles tried to draw a werewolf, with what he called 'big scary teeth', and Derek stood up from the picnic table to help him. Stiles drew a square and said it was Derek, and Derek flung his sparkler around randomly and said that it was Stiles, and that that wasn't a bad thing. Stiles tried to draw a triskele, which turned out to be quite the pathetic attempt. He remembered Derek holding his own sparkler off to the side so it wouldn't burn them when he grabbed Stiles' hand to help him draw it, and that only made Stiles' hand tremble when he tried to draw it on his own a second time.

They were three boxes in when Stiles lit another two and Derek noticed the tears in his eyes. Stiles' hand came up to rub them away with his sleeve and he sniffled pathetically. Stiles could feel Derek staring at him, so he glanced up with a small smile.

"What's the matter? I thought we were having fun." Derek was actually having fun. He'd laughed and smiled more in that one night than he had in his whole life. They were able to make fun of the crap they'd been through and for once Derek didn't feel like whatever was around the corner was going to murder him. He wasn't even thinking about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. He was just thinking about Stiles and the way the sparklers couldn't even touch the way his smile lit up the night.

"We are! I am. It's just…," Stiles sighed and shook his head, rubbing away more tears. "I thought I'd feel like a kid again. You know, nostalgia kind of thing. Do little kid things, feel like a little kid again. I was hoping it would make me feel better about everything, maybe make me feel like I had to grow up all of the sudden. Don't get me wrong, I'm having fun. I'm having more fun than I've had in months." He chuckled and looked up at Derek, and his even heartbeat gave Derek some kind of reassurance that he hadn't let Stiles down completely. "I mean, your time of being a kid was cut short, and after all of this I think I kind of know that that feels like. So I hoped the sparklers would make me feel like a kid again, but it's not working. I don't think I'm gonna be able to feel like a kid for a long time… Maybe I won't even have that chance."

It wasn't the first time Derek felt bad for him, but it was the first time he'd expressed it. He knew what it was like to have your life ripped from you and not know how to stop it, and he somehow felt responsible for Stiles' loss of youth. He reached a hand over and cupped the back of Stiles' neck, and through the last pops of the sparklers he could see that Stiles had started to cry. "You talk too much."

Stiles chuckled and Derek could hear the sound of his sleeves rubbing against his cheeks. "Sorry."

"I wasn't finished." It was like being an asshole was in his blood. It wasn't intentional though, that had to count for something. He heard Stiles sniffle and felt him lift his head to look up at him, and even though Stiles didn't feel like a child, through the darkness he certainly looked like one. Stiles could see Derek's eyes glowing red where he was using his ultra super werewolf vision to see, even though he preferred to not be seen crying. "I know… It sucks. And I'm sorry you have to go through this. Things will get better eventually." He could hear an empty box of sparklers being carried away in the wind. "You're right, you probably won't feel like a kid again for a long time. But we're all here for you. Scott, Isaac, me."

Stiles sniffled again and Derek felt his head thump against his chest, defeated. "I guess I gotta accept it, huh?"

Derek moved his hand from the back of his neck to between his shoulder blades. "It sucks, but for now, probably." He could hear Stiles' heartbeat slowing down.

"You're a man of many words," Stiles mumbled sarcastically, lifting his head only to let it smack against Derek's chest again.

The overwhelming smell of Stiles and teenage boy hit him all at once. It was an attack on his senses and all of the sudden everything around him was Stiles. The smell of burnt sparklers was gone, and even the sound of the light breeze was drowned out by the sound of Stiles' breathing. He looked up into the sky to make sure it wasn't a full moon, and that he wasn't about to get the overwhelming feeling to tear Stiles apart. It wasn't, but instinct was obviously trying to tell him to _do_ something. But what?

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you hate me?"

"… I thought I did, but I guess that was because I thought you hated me. But I don't think you do. Do you? We had a lot of fun tonight, and I kind of feel like we bonded. As stupid as that sounds…"

Derek just wanted a yes or a no, but Stiles wouldn't be Stiles if he didn't ramble on. He blocked it out because Stiles was _still_ talking. He was right about that handful of hair; it was perfect, filled up his palm just right. The stands were soft where they tangled around his fingers, and the way he twisted his wrist to pull Stiles' face out of his chest silenced him effectively. Even though he was leaning closer, Stiles' question of "what are you doing?" seemed distant. It wasn't until their lips met that Derek knew the answer to that question, and suddenly he felt like there were sparklers in his mouth.

It was awkward, and Stiles was as stiff as a board. He suddenly felt guilty, but for some reason it didn't feel entirely _wrong_. He tried to salvage what they had by moving his lips, stepping a little closer, but Stiles didn't budge. His fingers let go of his hair and he pulled away, stepped back completely. He felt dumb and he regretted his decision because what little bit of a friendship they'd created in one night was probably now ruined because Derek was emotionally compromised.

"I'm so sorry." Derek's voice was no louder than a whisper, and even though it had felt right Stiles could probably think of so many things that were wrong. Like their age difference. Or that they were both men. Or that Derek was a werewolf. Or that they used to hate each other.

"I don't think I want you to be." Stiles said it too fast for Derek to quite understand.

"What?"

"I mean, I think I liked it. I didn't really show it because, let's be honest, what the fuck even just happened? But I think it felt good, but I also can't really tell because I was more or less scared that you were going to eat me or something. So maybe we should try again, now that I know what you were doing. Sort of."

Derek really didn't need much more convincing than that. He leaned forward and kissed Stiles again, this time putting his hands somewhere less demanding, like his hips. Stiles wasn't so stiff, and his lips pushed back just slightly with the shyness of a virgin. Not-so-stiff turned into absolute jell-o, the press of lips went from awkward to just right. Stiles wasn't shy about giving Derek his weight, and Derek wasn't shy about taking it. He wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist and held him against his chest.

To Derek's surprise Stiles was the one to press on, that quicksilver tongue asking for entrance. Derek complied, and once the invitation was accepted it was obvious Stiles really didn't know what to do. Derek could only chuckle and take over. The slide of their tongues was slick and just a bit messy on Stiles' side. It was slow and soft and everything a good kiss should be. Stiles was that _spark_.

They pulled away after a few long minutes when their lungs started to hurt and Stiles was plenty more out of breath than Derek was and it was adorable. He could see the blush on Stiles' face even if he wasn't using werewolf senses and he just wanted to kiss him all night long.

"That was kind of awesome." Stiles whispered, all out of breath and warm.

"I'm glad you think so."

"I should buy sparklers more often."


End file.
